


Love Me, Use Me, Refuse Me

by Manya_Kami



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Drabble-esque, F/M, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Inner Dialogue, Inspired by Kaito ga Uninstall, Kaito-centric, Metaphors, Oneshot, Onomatopoeias, Poetic, Psychological, Repetition, Subtle Yandere, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, Yandere!Kaito, contains a LOT of headcanons, if that's even a thing, or at least I tried to make it so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 03:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10867908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manya_Kami/pseuds/Manya_Kami
Summary: Miku, Miku, Miku.Everyone loves Miku.My Master is no exception.But I love him.I love him more than she loves him.I love him more than he loves her.I love him.





	Love Me, Use Me, Refuse Me

Miku, Miku, Miku.

Everyone loves Miku. This person, and that person, this person right here, and him over there, and that girl aways off. They love Miku. They love her voice; and it tingles like  _ding, dan, dum_ ringing and ringing; they love her looks; her glossy tresses carry within them the same colours used to paint the globe, cerulean like the hazy sky and jungle-canopy lime, the deepest blue inside the depths of the murky kelp-green sea; they love that faceless persona, a character that they may weave into her with no protesting. She's a lovely lovestruck schoolgirl. Wait, she's a depressed tragic heroine. Next, she's a crazed, demented little child.

Mostly, they love her because she's Miku.

They love her.

 _They **l**_ ~~o~~ v ~~ **e**~~ _her._

My Master is no exception.

He had purchased her not so long ago that I've grown to love her as well. I haven't. I can't, I can't.

He'd gone out with Meiko. To the store, buy some things, come back, start recording and it's all normal, there's nothing strange to be expected, surely. What would drive one to have seen it coming. Nothing, no one, no one, would've thought anything of it.

_"Meiko and I are going out for just a bit, Kaito. Watch the house, don't let anyone in, even if the doorbell rings. There's some ice pops in the freezer, but be good and maybe I'll bring you back something, a treat, extra special." A wink. He winks at me. Master, master._

_Meko opens the door with a smile. "See you in a bit, Kaito-san!" Slam._

Closed, shut, out, gone-for-good. I didn't see Meiko ever again. Do I miss her? I wonder, I wonder. She was nice. She was nice enough to me. She was very pretty with a _wiss-woo_ voice and we were purchased from the same store. On the same day. Expensive, for our Master.

When Master had arrived at the end of their trip he was in the company of a model I later learned was called Miku. That's Miku. She was popular. She still is popular. I looked her up.

Lots and lots and lots and lots.

She's everywhere. _All-of-the-places_. Blink, and you'd miss her. Another blink, and she's back in your line of sight, this time scooping out a new song, fresh melody and harmony.

_"Kaito, this is Miku Hatsune. She'll be living with us now. Isn't she cute. Yes yes, very cute? To buy her, unfortunately Meiko had to go. Definitely a pity. I hope you're not upset with me, please do not miss her." Miku says nothing. I realize she has no face._

Is that the improvement that was made? I wonder now. Hmm, hmm. Meiko had succeeded because her _wiss-woo wee-waa_ and _weiweiwei_ were advanced and washed over the ears in a cycle of water-over-rocks, water-over-stones and over and over lopped and looped, over and over.

I was a failure in the fact that I can only sound like _ladabadunk, ladabadunk_ , thumping-down-a-wooden-staircase sounds. No one can love something that can only go _ladabadunk_. Right?

_But Master loved me, Master **loved** me, so I guess that's okay. That's okay. That's fine._

But we were failures, definitely failure, in the sense that we had faces. I still have my face. (Poor Meiko). Miku has no face though. She never has any face, and she cannot talk, she's unable to speak, through any will of her own, because she's been denied a brain.

But even so, everyone loves her, everyone loves her, Master loves her.

Master loves her a lot. Master does not say much to me, these days. Master does not say much of anything, he does not, he will not. At all. Because Miku cannot speak and therefore, _therefore_ , those who love her cannot speak either, and the cycle loops back around to the beginning, fishing-line style and the only one left with words on their tongue is myself.

Master is always with Miku now. They hold hands. I want Master to hold-my-hand though. Is that wrong of me? Of course that's wrong. That's wrongwrongwrong because you're Kaito and not _Miku_ , and that means that everything you dothink _say_ is wrong.

They're in the studio. Now Miku is making noise, _dandandan_ and Master's face blinks to life like they city lights seen on Earth from that tiny this-here moon. His eyes are flick-er-ing twinkles that dribble, drip drop into the crescent form of his pixel-tooth smile, shining like pearls strung in horizontal rows. His arms might look like they're conducting to him, and perhapse they might've to Miku as well had she any eyes to see, but in reality that's no tempo, no, not at all. Master whips his arms zig-zag, back-forth, two-and-fro, whipping the batter of sound in the air as the music collides with him like an egg-beater whisk whisk whisking swish-swish, swish-swish.

Master doesn't make music with me any more. When did he, before? When was that? I'm ashamed to say that I cannot tell you, for you see I do not know, and that is due to the fact that it truly must've been very long ago indeed. How foolish of me.

My voicebank collects dust in the hollow, unused tube in my neck. No speaking, remember, for if Miku cannot speak, no one must speak. The V3 voicebank he had purchased for me, back before Meiko had been sold off, sits, never once opened, never once used, at the top of his tallest skyscraper shelf.

Days later, that MikuMikuMiku song is a hit. How funny is that? It's not funny, actually, because it was expected, because it's Miku and everything she does inevitably results in greatness and grandness.

After songmaking is lovemaking. It's the reward.

They might think I don't see them. If they don't, then clearly they just don't care, nope, not one bit.

Miku makes no sound. But Master, when in the deepest throws of pleasure simply cannot contain himself, even considering her handicap. He bleches, grunges and grunts, as he becomes a metronome inside her wet instrument, tink tock, tick tock, timer's counting down. He gushes inside and the mechanical tubes flush the milk away and out out out, can't have the cords inside getting damaged now can we? Everything is clean, mess-free, tidy, and Miku stands up, slinking away with puffy flushed breasts and a pink welt between her spindle-legs.

When I watch those scenes, I can feel something bubble inside of me, growing and growing until it pops and I wind up in a separate room, using blue-lacquered batons to try and keep a time inside my own backside, _shrik, skrik_. I gush in a straight line, clean, clean, metal people don't need to make huge messes, after all. Can you imagine the inconvenience?

Tired and uncharged, the black nighttime tigers leap through the window and into my room, luminescence going dull and mindless 'sleep' arrives.

.

.

.

"Kaito, Kaito. Focus. It's morning. There are some things that I need to get. Won't you go to the store with me? Kaito. We haven't spent a lot of time together lately. Don't you wish to be useful to me, like Meiko used to be?" Master, Master. He's talking to me? He's right here, sitting at the foot of my bed. I can't believe?

"...Master?" To the store. The store. That's what he had told Meiko, wasn't it? The Vocaloid store. Return me. For what? Another Miku model? I can't stomache the thought.

Miku. Miku. _MikuMikuMiku_. She'd stay with Master while I had to go? I can't stomache the thought. I can't breathe.

Master's eyes are kind and warm. They're so warm. Is this how he'd looked at Meiko before abandoning her? I don't want to become like Meiko, though. I love Master. I love him. I love him.

I love him.

I love him.

I love him _more_ than Miku loves him.

I love him **_more_** than he loves Miku.

So why am I the one getting returned?

Because I love him, I must obey. "Okay Master. Okay. Alright. Allow me just one moment to freshen up." It's morning. The razor-beam sunlight rockets through the windowpane. Ricochets off of Master and into me, off me and into Master.

"Sure, Kaito. Be quick about it though. Snappy, quick. You mustn't take too much time. Maybe if you're fast we can stop for ice cream, how does that sound?" Master smiles at me. Smiles at me. I love it. I love him.

I exit my room and leave Master, heading down the hallway. The house is a maze. It's a maze and it's made of stone, and so is the thing that I'm looking for inside the maze. It's made of stone, too.

Where is she? Where is she? She has no face. Looking for a faceless object in a faceless house is impossible. I think it's impossible.

But it's not impossible. She sits there, on the couch in a stiff, militaristic position, waiting for Master. Waiting for my Master. _My_ Master, whom I love, and I refuse to leave. Who will refuse to abandon me when I'm his last Vocaloid left.

I look around. Left, right. Right and left. There's not all that much in the living room. There's nothing but me and Miku.

There's the tall lamp though, and the thought coursing through my head when I pick it up and hurl it three-hundred-billion miles an hour towards Miku's faceless head is _"This'll do."_

Crash, and _Error! Warning! Major damage to central spine and facial structure! Error!_ rings out in Miku's screeching voice louder, louder than anything I can say, than anything I've ever thoughts. My arms are moving on their own, however, and the lamp comes racing towards Miku's now limp body again. And again. Over and over. And again. Looped. Water-over-rocks. _Wiss-woo, wee-waa_.

 _Error..._ it fizzles off.

It's then that I register that I'm now sharing the room with Master. He's cowering behind me, curled into a tiny cube, because she's broken, she's no good. Miku is. He loved Miku. Miku was everything, everything. To everyone. To him.

But I'm very comforting to him, my kind, warm, shaking Master. I kneel down, next to his form. And smile, because this is funny! Yes, it certainly is. Vocaloids are very funny, aren't they? Perhapse this is why they didn't give the newer models brains.

"Master, it's me." _ladabadunk_. "Kaito."

"Don't you remember me?" _ladabadunk. ladabadunk._ "Kaito. Kaito Kaito Kaito." _ladabadunk._

"Master, Master, there is just one Vocaloid in this house. You will look at me, and me alone, right?" _ding, dan, dum._

_dandandan._

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hoo boi. what even is this.


End file.
